Page 51 of The Mistake
DI Travis doesn’t respond; instead she jots a note in her sprawling, spidery writing in the notebook as Natalie watches, gooseflesh rising on her arms at the horrifying realisation that there is every possibility the detective thinks Natalie is the one to have abducted Erin.
‘I can’t believe you could even ask me that.’ Natalie forces the words out, her throat dry. ‘I don’t understand how any parent could hurt their child, and I could never hurt Erin. She’s … She’s just a baby.’ She can feel a pulse at her temple, an insistent beat thudding in time with the headache tightening across the back of her skull. She wouldn’t hurt Erin; she couldn’t. But even as she says it, Natalie thinks about the phone call she made to Eve that awful day, about the way just for a moment she could have easily picked Erin up and shaken her.
‘It’s more common than people realise,’ Haynes says, his tone sombre.
Natalie feels the sting of his words like tiny needles under her skin. ‘I’m not like those people,’ she says. ‘I’m not a bad person.’ She looks at DI Travis, holding her gaze in what she hopes is a clear and open (innocent) way. ‘You must understand, you have a young child. It’s exhausting, and sometimes it can be very, very difficult, but that doesn’t mean—’
‘Isolating, too,’ Travis says. ‘Did you feel isolated, Natalie? After all, Pete was at work – or so he said – such long hours, and you were left with the baby all day and most evenings.’
‘I didn’t … I mean, I was lonely. Sometimes.’ The words taste bitter on her tongue. Shehadbeen lonely, and there were times when she had thought that perhaps if she hadn’t continuedwith her pregnancy then she wouldn’t feel this way. ‘I didn’t feel isolated, though. Not really. I had Eve, and Emily was home a lot during her study leave, and then after her exams.’
‘Let’s talk about Emily.’
‘What about her?’ Natalie’s chin lifts, a rush of maternal energy running through her at the thought of her eldest child. ‘She has nothing to do with this.’
‘What’s your relationship like with Emily? How do you get along?’ DI Travis watches Natalie curiously, as if expecting her to crumble. ‘Lord knows I’m not looking forward to my daughter reaching her teenage years – she’s headstrong enough already.’
‘Our relationship is fine,’ Natalie says, hesitantly. ‘We’ve always been close.’ And they were. Before, anyway.
‘She doesn’t resent you for having another baby? I should imagine it was a big upheaval for her, what with her A levels and applying for university.’
‘No, of course she doesn’t.’ Natalie can feel her blood pressure rise, anger flushing her cheeks. ‘Emily isn’t like that.’
‘Really?’ Travis sits back in her chair, an unimpressed look on her face. ‘Only, the two of you were overheard arguing upstairs, when you went to put Erin to bed. She told you she wasn’t here to look after the baby only you wanted, or words to that effect. Isn’t that right?’
‘Well—’
‘What was it that pushed Emily over the edge tonight, Natalie?’
‘The edge? She wasn’t pushed overthe edge.’ The fury washing over Natalie creates a red mist, blinding her for a moment. Who does this woman think she is? ‘How dare you.’ Her voice is icy despite the heat raging in her veins. ‘Yes, Emily and I have had words before over her looking after Erin, but she’s got nothing to do with this. She loves Erin, and she’s been nothing but helpful in the months since she’s been born. Of course she’s going to feel resentful sometimes – what child doesn’t when they have a new sibling? But Emily and I are closer than we’ve ever beenand nothing is going to change that.’ Natalie’s throat is thick with unshed tears, an aching in her chest signalling the start of a tremendous crying jag if she can’t keep herself together for just a little bit longer.
‘It just seems an odd time, that’s all. For a row like that. At a party. For Emily.’ Travis gives nothing away, her face a blank canvas. ‘She called you a bitch, Natalie. That tells me she was pretty upset, and it was all over Erin. What was it that triggered her? Was Erin crying again? Was Erin taking up all of your attention, when it should have been Emily’s day?’
‘Yes … no.No. It wasn’t just about Erin, Emily was just … being a teenager. Of course she didn’t want to look after her baby sister all the time – what teenager does? But the argument at the party, it wasn’t only about Erin.’
‘She told you she couldn’t wait to get away, isn’t that right? Emily told you she couldn’t wait to leave your house for good,’ Travis presses on, as Natalie feels a crushing sensation in her chest. ‘Maybe Emily just couldn’t take it any more, the constant pressure on her to pick up your slack. Emily was happier before Erin was born, wasn’t she, Natalie?’
‘No. No, that’s not true.’ Natalie shakes her head, her heart in her mouth because even as she speaks, she knows what DI Travis is sayingistrue. Emilywashappier before Erin came along, but they can’t honestly think Emily would do this? ‘You can’t … You can’t think …’ Natalie tries to draw in a breath but she can’t, as a thick, gulping sob erupts from her chest, hollowing her out.
Emily would never hurt Erin.Natalie knows that as sure as she knows her own name.Someone heard Emily and me arguing in the bedroom.Natalie can’t think who would have been upstairs in order to hear them, and then she remembers the baby monitor. The police said it had run out of battery, but if it was still working when she and Emily were arguing, any of the guests at the party could have overheard them. Anyone could have overheard her daughter telling her how much she hates her. Folding her armson the table in front of her, Natalie lays her head on them and finally lets the dam of tears break. Natalie sobs in a way she hasn’t for years – not since her mother and father told her and Pete that if they weren’t going to terminate their pregnancy with Emily, then they didn’t want to see her again. She had come home that day, back to the poky flat she and Pete had fallen in love with on the outskirts of Maidstone, and cried her heart out in the bathroom, without Pete’s knowledge. Now she cries until there is nothing left, the ache in her chest is gone and her face is sore and itchy with salt.
Everything is falling apart.The thought comes like a neon sign, blinking on and off in her head as she reaches for a tissue and blows her nose, patting her face dry, aware of DI Travis scrutinising her every move. A little over a year ago, everything had been perfect. Natalie had loved her job, working in HR at a charity. It didn’t pay a lot, but it meant she could chip in for holidays, and take the kids on days out in half-term. She and Pete were rock-solid back then. They were a golden couple, an example to the rest of their friends. Even Stu and Mari had had hiccups before, but Natalie and Pete had had a smooth run; it was rare for them to even argue. Emily and Zadie had been happy. Emily hadn’t hated Natalie – yes, she’d lied to the police officers, she does feel as if Emily hates her right now, but they’ll get over it, they always do – and Zadie wasn’t in trouble at school. Wasn’t wetting the bed and refusing to eat. All of it has changed since Erin came along, and if Natalie is brutally honest with herself, she hates her life right now.
‘Do you envy Emily, Natalie?’ Travis speaks, her tone low and serious. ‘Do you wish you could walk away from it all?’
‘No,’ Natalie whispers, her voice hoarse. But that is another lie. There have been so many times in the last year when Natalie has wanted to pack her bag and walk out of the door, without even saying goodbye to the rest of them. How many times has she wondered how long it would take for them to notice she wasn’tthere? Those days when Erin would have her up four or five times during the night, while Pete snored on completely oblivious, and then she would cry all day, no matter what Natalie did to try and soothe her. Those days, they were the days when Natalie could have walked out and never looked back. There have been a number of times when Natalie has stood over the cot, willing a restless Erin toplease, just go to sleep, wondering why her youngest child hates her so much, a feeling that is only exacerbated by Eve waltzing in the door and getting Erin off to sleep within minutes. Natalie knows she should feel grateful for the brief respite that Eve’s magic touch brings, but in all honesty, it just makes Natalie feel even more inadequate. Even more surplus to Erin’s requirements.
And now, Pete. Pete and Vanessa. Natalie’s mouth fills with saliva and she presses her hand to her lips, suddenly sure she’s going to vomit. Maybe this is all Natalie’s fault, too. Maybe she should have given him more attention, not turned her back on him and pretended to be asleep as soon as she heard the front door open. As soon as the thought rises in her mind, Natalie is disgusted with herself. The affair is Pete’s doing, nobody else’s. How are they ever going to get over this, even if Erin is OK? Natalie can’t imagine going back to the house, to the home they’ve shared, raised a family in, acting as if nothing has happened. She wouldn’t be surprised if Emily found a way to leave for university as soon as possible – she said she couldn’t wait to get away from Natalie, and if there is no Pete to keep her there … Natalie’s eyes fill with tears again and she feels a bone-crushing weariness. It feels as if she is at the root of all the problems in her family. It’s her fault Pete had an affair, her fault Emily wants to leave, her fault Zadie is playing up, all because she insisted on carrying on with the pregnancy.
A cold wave of fear washes over Natalie, leaving her shivering in her sundress. She tucks her feet up onto the chair, pulling the dress low over her ankles, and wraps her arms around her knees.If she thinks she is the most likely suspect to have done this – to have taken Erin out to die in the woods – then it stands to reason that DI Travis and her colleague will be thinking along the same lines. Natalie is sure,positive, she could never have done this, but what if the police have already made their minds up that she is responsible? You hear of it all the time, people being convicted of things they haven’t done. She can’t go to prison. She’ll die if that happens. The thought takes her breath away, and she knows she is on the verge of a panic attack, her pulse crashing in her ears.What if they find me guilty? I can’t leave them, can’t leave my family. Who will take care of them all?The thought of the press hammering at the door, taking photos of Zadie and Emily as they try to go to school, of Pete having to cope without her, makes her want to die.How will any of them cope if I’m convicted of trying to murder my own child?
Pete
Pete jumps into the waiting Uber and tells the driver to get him homenow. He feels sick, disgusted with himself at ever taking a second look in Vanessa’s direction, but underneath that there is a swirl of confusion, a foggy cloud where he can’t make head nor tail of anything any more. He had been so sure that Vanessa was responsible for Erin’s abduction, that the lipstick on the blanket must have belonged to her. For Vanessa to flat out deny it, and then throw Natalie’s name in his face, should really make him want to defend his wife to the ends of the earth, but deep down, if he’s honest, there’s a tiny part of him that thinks it’s not impossible. Natalie has been so erratic, so completely unlike herself, that he can’t honestly say it’s an impossibility. It’s a thought that makes sour bile rise in the back of his throat, and he wishes he’d drunk that whisky after all.
The Uber pulls up outside the Maxwell house a short while later, and Pete is relieved to see lights blazing in the downstairs windows, his heart lifting at the thought of seeing his girls, of laying eyes on them and knowing two of his children, at least, are OK. He checks his phone as he slips out of the Uber and makes his way up the front path, his heart skipping a beat as he sees there is a missed call from Natalie. His breath catching in his throat, his fingers shake as he calls her back, suddenly sure that she was calling about Erin. That something dreadful, the worst possible thing, has happened. He turns to see the tail lights of the Uber wink as the driver reaches the end of the cul-de-sac and gets the urge to raise a hand, to tell the driver to wait. Natalie’s phone rings three times before her voicemail cuts in, and Petehangs up without leaving a message, intent on checking on the girls and getting back to the hospital as quickly as he can.
Letting himself into the hallway, he is aware of the muted conversation coming from the kitchen. The detritus of the party is still littered around the house, empty glasses and paper plates left stagnating on the coffee table in the sitting room, although it does look as though someone has made a cursory effort to tidy up a little. He wonders if whoever it was, was told to stop cleaning in case of removing evidence, and the thought of his home being a crime scene makes that sour bile rise up again.
